Category: Uncategorized

I would say, that I am disappointed. Nothing new to feed off from, Suri being as distant as she is as slurps the bowl of Pho somewhere near Alexanderplatz, determined to hide me or impose her need for silence as my own as well (not true). After all, what else does Berlin has to offer?

Packaged in black and white, I am so tired of this. I’ve determined that my wanting is only wanting for something and someone unattainable, and every other effort or attempt is futile and goes to shit. While all I need to do is a simple ask, but even that seems a bit too much.

Anyway, Denmark beckons.

september comes, and it marks both an ending and new beginnings. i will be 27 in 2-3 days, for one. adulthood (beckons). for one, i look forward to cut off my hair, and sport, say, a more Faye Wong or at least, a super short one. no idols, just to chop and feel better (a superstition that never goes away).

for the first time in my life, i will be this person who has nothing to look forward to. by the end of september, or by X days, i am to do nothing. it feels strange indeed, this transition. but i keep talking about it as if my life depends on it, but it is not like i am working very hard to change this fate of mine. f is here, we shall move to denmark, we will get bicycles, and i will translate or read more books or be more productive.

friends are there, but i always have a strange feeling it is i who shun myself away, not the other way around. i realize this method of never giving yourself away, (not to be confused with dishonesty), but coldness in form and thought, to not be warm, has sort of distanced myself from the rest of my friends. I should say hi more often, ask of their health, but i wonder if this should be a two-way interaction instead of one way. at any rate, i surrender.

i shall devote september then, to online courses, graduating, read all the books that have steadily piling, learning to speak more and access my brain, perhaps really buying a bicycle and cycle my heart out to places and be at peace. dan menulis, tentunya.

kita tiba di bandar terpencil ini,

sambil menanti apa yang dicari itu tiba,

dan apa yang kau mahu itu kau dapat,

dan apa yang aku (lama) tahu itu aku terima.

 

doa-doa telah terhapus di sini,

dipadam angin dan ditelan awan,

ditinggalkan taktala pesawat kita berangkat,

bersama debu-debu semalam.

 

 

says the Harlequin, his last words as he disappears from the stage of Geothe Huis. there we were, a row of misfits, trying to understand his Bergamo accent and Italian comedy and masks in general. A says to me, this is like wayang kulit, but we will never understand. A performance of the body, of expression, of giving. I too, would like to be in this kind of rapture.

i would like to give, and give a lot, but sometimes i carry all these words and feelings and thoughts, but nothing is ever uttered. there is love, but never expressed. terhad dalam segala sesuatu.

back with F, and he is, as always, well dressed. Ifa says to me that A is well dressed, but I begged to differ. Over breakfast of mangosteen and Starbucks pastry, as he was about to leave to Bangkok, and I, Kuala Lumpur, we finally retreated into his hole and tell each other truths which were kept so long. I, with my many woes, and he, with his confession that was about to come. I have long suspected this, with the trail of hot young men we meet over the course of X months and movie nights and all, but I am okay. This is the only explanation and outcome, anyway, and I shall come into terms with it. We tell each other we will miss each other, and will meet some other day, in some other part of the world, with my bicycle tucked under his table.

i tell this tale to the taxi driver on my way to the airport, and he just laughs at me, saying it is a disease. i say, i am no judge of anything, but i love him all the same.

back at F, again. He is away for work, and we spent the whole night just with each other and cuddling without a thought for the outside world. Some things are comforting, and this warmth, the familiar smell as you enter the car, all this hits me as something, a moment, is over. i collapse in this moment, that i say, i need to process my emotions, readjust into domestic life, readjust into having a husband, readjust into having him, readjust myself.

I still have to write my thesis, and this thought looms over me, nags over my thought, but my mind and my soul tells me I have moved on to something else. I am over with this, and must move on to bigger and better things. Of course, I have presented before my colleagues in Jakarta, but this feels more like a performance of utter farce. I just need to believe in it until it is over.

i do not know what luck do i have to deserve such kindness from other people who continue to fill me with warmth and love and hospitality, but this i shall carry within me and live as much as i can.

Kadang-kadang aku seperti lupa yang tujuan aku ke Jakarta, sebenar-benarnya, adalah untuk menulis thesis, menyiapkan masters. Aku tak boleh bersembunyi di sebalik hal-hal yang berlaku waktu malam, dari makan malam dengan kawan-kawan dan perbualan-perbualan penuh ideologi dan idealisme. Entah.

Tetapi menulis dalam Bahasa Melayu merupakan hal yang berat bagi aku. So let’s switch, like the budak Sri Puteri dalam debat 4.0 itu, yang menyalahkan gender dalam apa-apa hal. Kata mereka (Abang Jo, Marlin, Beni, Aji), aku ini seorang yang individualis, centrist, egosentrik. Yang aku cuma katakana yang aku cuma seorang yang tak pandai bersyukur terhadap segala apa yang berlaku pada sekeliling. But who cares about these  things, really.

There’s a lot of things to write, there’s a lot of things to remember, a lot of things that leave an impression on me, but I never learn anything from them. I am one that consumes but never gives, I am the one that receives, I am the one that gives out nothing  but weak words that seem to flay and flake and crack and die in the flames.

I am tired of the world, really, but no one really seems to understand. The way I describe my tiredness can only be uttered that it is boring for me, and the thing I really want to do is just to die. Tears well up but are never spilled, words are gathered but never spoken, scenes are imagined but never acted and this is the way I act my whole life. F says I always want to be seem as cool, such that I never try anything in my life. No, I do not dare to disturb the universe.

Anarchists, feminists, the homeless, the sick, the crippled, the wronged, the stateless people aside, A and I talk about our plans about the future. Him who wants to enter the interpreter world and trading, and I would like to just disappear and start a small furniture or clay or idk what kind of shop. We agree that saving the world is a tall order and all these government talks that seem to revolve around big words but no action and just channelling foreign aid into their own pockets. I am fucking tired of everything. I never ask him about his love life, and he never asks about F.

I have nothing more to say. If there is a way for me to cry and to speak so freely and present myself as I truly am, sans the usual façade or self that I portray myself everyday, I would ever be so grateful.

he says, as he takes the golden helmet away and speeds off to his usual spot. I am left dumbfounded as to what it means, and try to make sense of what it is that I am doing in this world, and I feel utterly bored and in need of a space to react, but find no such thing anywhere in this world. Therefore, I have nowhere to go to.

The feeling you get that you want to talk to someone, and talk about nothing real. To fill in the empty spaces in your heart. I yearn to feel, to I have nothing to fill me in.

I attribute this to the lack of drinking water, and then when no one talks to me, I feel unwanted, but this is a rare space in which you should appreciate and actually, do something productive with yourself, M.

I have nothing real to push for, two more weeks here and I am done. Let me enjoy my night and then sleep into nothingness. I say to A that, I liked him (which amounts to nothing anyway, for I wish for nothing but a reaction), but the very fact in the morning he says ich auch I am left still, a bit dumbfounded. Still, we do nothing about it, and move about our lives.

I am to move to Denmark anyway, and to work and live and leave this country that I have grown fond of. To leave everyone behind, for they have life to live to. But till then, I guess.

The kids are Guntur though, they are something, and this house I must pay a visit before I leave.

 

Ada sesuatu yang tak terungkap dalam diriku, ketika aku terbaring di dalam bilik seorang diri setelah selesai dengan dunia luar pada pagi itu, daripada perjalanan menaiki kapal terbang daripada Kuala Lumpur ke Jakarta, dan menaiki kereta api ke Jakarta melalui perumahan ditepi rel kereta api yang diperbuat daripada papan dan kegelapan dan penyidai dan dapur makeshift. Ada sisi-sisi yang tak pernah aku akan ketahui dalam hidup ini, ever.

Aku kemudian berjalan kaki menuju ke kosan, perjalanan dalam sekitar 1.4 kilometer dari Stasiun Sudirman ke Jalan Setiabudi 6. Melihat bandar sambil menarik luggage yang bising bergerak di atas jalan raya, seiring dengan motor-motor dengan kereta. Seketika, aku rasa bebas dalam keramaian ini.

Petang itu, setelah selesai waktu pejabat yang bagi aku, cuma 4 jam waktunya, mostly sebab aku lupa bawa charger laptop, makanya agak tak masuk akal untuk aku tinggal lama-lama di situ. Aku pulang, dan menelefon Nata di Germany, dan kami masing-masing menceritakan tentang ketakutan dan kegusaran masa depan masing-masing. Aku dengan perpindahan aku ke Denmark, dan dia yang entah ke mana, mungkin Colombia atau mungkin ke kampung halaman Einstein di Ulm.

Tak lama setelah itu, aku ke Plaza Semanggi pula, kerana telah berjanji dengan Ifa untuk bermain go kart di sana. A ada di situ, dan at this point aku sudah tidak peduli. Imaginasi aku telah pudar, dan yang tinggal cuma saki-baki realiti kehidupan dan tak semua benda boleh membuatkan kau lupa dan buat-buat lupa. Pendek kata, aku malas nak layan. Tapi jauh dalam hati, ada keinginan untuk memberitahu mimpi-mimpiku kepadanya. Kami ke Gramedia, dan aku melihat buku L S Chudori yang aku gemari, dan berkira-kira mahu membelinya. Mungkin hari ini kita harus ke Kemang, untuk melihat filem dan diskusi bersamanya, dan aku mengajak Ayu. Tak ada hari lain kecuali hari ini.

Aku memberi A membaca buku Fragmen tulisan Karl, sementara aku berdansa from a cheap rip off version of Just Dance. Aku katakan, he’s one of the best poets we have right now, dan aku mengakui ini bukanlah kata-kata seseorang yang support kawan, tapi lebih kepada pernyataan yang lahir apabila aku membacanya ketika dalam MRT baru-baru ini. Ada sejenis kegusaran dan kesengsaraan yang aku dapat rasakan yang hanya dapat lahir apabila keramaian telah beransur hilang, dan yang tinggal hanya kesunyian dan kerinduan, yang diungkapkan dalan kata-kata yang penuh kejujuran. Pulang dari go-kart dan berdansa di permainan arket.

Pulang dari go-kart dan berdansa di permainan arket, meninggalkan the 4 indonesians (Didit, A, Rizky, dan Ifa), aku menaiki gojek pulang dan mula memasak 12 burger ramlee di kosan aku. Paula, Evandro, Jeff, dan Alina tiba satu demi satu dan kami memotong sayur, meletakkan butter kepada roti burger dan aku cuba berfikir bagaimana nak buat sos lada hitam tanpa tepung (ianya susah kan). 2 jam kemudian, setelah 2-3 minuman teh dan Milo dan bercakap tentang hal-hal kosong. Mereka masing-masing pulang.

Aku yang masih gusar, kembali bilik dan menatap (atau meratap) pada siling, tiba-tiba rasa begitu letih. Sebelum subuh, aku ke dapur dan bertemu kedua ibu bapaku sedang berbual-bual dan bersedia untuk memasak sarapan. Aku rindu mereka, dan aku sedar yang tak ada apa-apa gambar, video ataupun ucapan yang boleh menjelaskan betapa dalamnya sayang aku kepada mereka. Kasih sayang mereka berbentuk perbuatan dan ingatan dan doa, jauh daripada keramaian dan sapa mesra.

Tiba-tiba aku didatangi oleh perasaan membuak untuk merokok. Aku ke tingkat lima dan melihat bandar Jakarta yang akan aku rindui, dan mungkin tak akan kembali lagi setelah kurang dari satu bulan lagi aku akan berada di sini.

Adalah sangat mudah untuk bercakap hal-hal tangible, seperti melalui skrip yang sama dan anda cuma perlu ulang semula kepada orang-orang yang akan mengangguk dan memberi pendapat, cadangan, solusi. Tetapi keseluruhan diriku terdiri dan bermula daripada perasaan (dan bukan emosi ataupun mood), dan tidak ada suatu tempat atau orang pun di dunia ini yang boleh aku ceritakan tentangnya.

Di suatu sudut terpencil, ada seorang perempuan yang sedang menunggu keberanian untuk berkata-kata.

dia menceritakan tentang perjalanannya di Syria, beberapa bulan sebelum negara itu dilanda peperangan (?) / krisis. dari aleppo, damascus dan tempat tempat yang aku tak pernah dengar, tiba-tiba pandanganku berubah. seorang lelaki yang sunyi yang tak mempunyai kata-kata tetapi melihat dunia seluas-luasnya, menyelami, mengalami, berendam, larut, terbenam, tertanam dalam setiap tempat yang dilawatinya.

a, seorang lelaki yang menyambut harijadi ke 30-something nya, dihadiahi sepucuk poskad ditulis mesej peribadi, pemegang passport dan lilin wangi oleh anak buahnya (yang 10 tahun lebih muda). apa yang aku sangka sebagai cinta, rupanya tidak lebih kepada sesuatu yang lebih platonik dan juga penuh rasa.

aku cemburu sebenarnya, persahabatan begini. apabila dua jiwa mampu bertukar fikiran tentang apa-apa sahaja. peribadi default aku, merupakan sesuatu yang lebih berhati-hati. mungkin kerana aku sendiri tidak pasti dengan bagaimana cara menjadi lebih autentik, gitu. orang yang terlalu sedar akan kewujudan dirinya biasanya tak boleh bergerak, dan aku salah seorang daripadanya.

*

keinginan untuk menulis secara serius kembali, tapi kenalah ada bahan bacaan, kan?

*

bagaimana untuk melatih diri tidak cepat diganggui rasa? mungkin, berhenti main instagram, lebih banyak mengekspresi diri di khalayak ramai, lebih banyak menulis untuk diri sendiri, lebih banyak mengungkap apa yang dirasa.

mungkin aku harus mengumpul kekuatan daripada rancangan queer eye.

*

 

 

celebrating raya with a family who has little to say to each other, out of their quiet personality, with only the cat’s bell echoing through the house.

*

Two days before, A lent me Bumi Manusia and one of Milan Kundera. We found out that both of us has a penchant for all things old, from old films to soundtracks, and this brief moment of recognition, di sebalik all the farce and dishonesty mostly on my part, disarms me.

*

since then, my mind has been playing around many scenarios, dialogues and speeches and it is a pleasure, the ability to construct words and conversations and possibilities. Also painful, as most of them requires courage to be uttered.

i realize this has nothing to do with love. I cherish moments and memories so I can blanket myself in them.

*

Bali was like this, walking all by myself along the Kuta Beach, where the waiter keeps talking but was never understood, form all part of performance in which the end result is I am happily at ease and drunk.

*

One only displays certain parts of their lives on the public eyes, but never the most important ones.

*

I wonder how and when it will come. But tomorrow, to Krakatau.

i’m currently between either in panic mode or something that is best described as heading towards a grand fall that is foreseen, happening in slow motion as you slowly progress slowly towards the final scene, and although you would like to get off this train wreck, it’s kinda impossible or doable but with great movement.

as it is with everyday work, focus and most importantly, discipline, is not one of my strongest suits and this continuation of actually downgrading or lowering’s one own opinion of herself is not really progressive… so to speak.

but enough of this small interlude of mine. i know myself to pick up again after a few hours, a few days. all that i ever wanted for myself was to just disappear, and this need to be grounded or yes, to be rooted or attached to a cause, a calling or something, is something that i have always struggled with.

i don’t care about people. i have always made that clear to myself. i am swept by gestures, motivation, movements, moments that stir a person, but never the person himself. in the end, i am burdened by all this unnecessary and unimportant information and drama about other people, from friends to f himself. i want nothing of this, but i am continuously drawn by it, and sometimes involve myself, by some deep need to understand and to flourish this imaginary library of scenes in my head for some future writing or novel which will never materialize.

god, if there is someone out there that could knock some sense into me, or tell me to abandon all that continues to lodge nothing but ugliness and weariness in my heart, and tell me that, i, need to be doing this and that for the sake of my sanity and well being and happiness, and tell me that i shall be at peace with this option for the next few decades, or until i die, i would be grateful. for now i seem to be everywhere and nowhere, and talks about the future seem to follow a script that is not even truthful to my own narrative, that i am tired of everything.

but what then, would be the alternative, dear heart? it seems that all that people seem to take resorting that doing or being X is wrong, that it is unforgivable, without understanding the ideas and the reasonings behind it. but how does one human being, move anyway? what is he driven by? logic, heart, reasoning, dreams, gestures, ideas? what gives, what moves? it seems i am alone in all of this, and no amount of advices or warnings seep inside me, and in the end there is no point to say anything anymore. for there are people who see what is on the surface, actions and their consequences, but never the trail itself.

xoxo till then.